


All Our Goodbyes—a Prequel

by AkaneRei



Series: Letters of Tomorrow [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29609664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaneRei/pseuds/AkaneRei
Summary: Stand-alone drabbles on the characters right before they leave Paradis, right beforeLetters from the First YearAlthough it is a prequel of standalones and can technically be read prior toLetters from the First YearI do think there is more impact to read it after.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, Hitch Dreyse/Jean Kirstein, Levi Ackerman/Mikasa Ackerman
Series: Letters of Tomorrow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162514
Comments: 59
Kudos: 105





	1. Connie and Historia

**Author's Note:**

> I want to be frank because I don’t want to mislead. I like knowing that a certain pair is the endgame of a story because one of the reasons I read a story in the first place is to get that pair fix 🙂 
> 
> The _Letters_ series has a Jeankasa endgame. 
> 
> But that being said, it definitely has other pairings with Jean and Mikasa in the past and what can be considered as the current timeline. Why? Because I want to make the endgame worth the effort. To give the characters the certainty that they have made the choice after exploring other options. And to give the characters the knowledge their partner chose them at the end, out of everyone else.
> 
> Which brings us to this prequel work as a whole.

Historia stares at him, as she and her guards approach the gardens. He has a worn stance, and if she were to look closer, she knows his face would look older than his years. But that is not surprising. 

She motions for her guards and for Hitch to stay back. She doesn’t need them. This is Connie, after all, and he has asked to talk.

She walks towards him slowly. She knows that despite appearances to the contrary, he is aware of her approach the moment she steps into the garden. So, she also knows that it is a deliberate effort on his part to not look her way.

“Connie,”she says softly.

He still refuses to face her.

She raises her hand to his shoulder.

“Connie,” she repeats, infusing a certain patience in her voice one would reserve for coaxing wild animals. “There are chairs, up that way.” She let her hand slide to his. “Let’s go sit.” And she leads the way, taking care not to look at his face or meet his eyes. She has a feeling that he needed ...a moment.

She gently pushes him forward, until they are by the stone benches and stone tables. She sits him down before moving slowly to take the bench opposite his. 

He puts both his hands on the table, his head still bowed.

And Historia waits as she begins to take in more of his appearance. She keeps from wrinkling her nose at the smell of cheap alcohol that comes off his clothes. She’s not sure when he last changed. She can see the dark shadows under his eyes and the beginnings of a stubble.

How long has he been this way?

And why has no one told her?

After a few more minutes of silence, she takes his hands to her own.

“Connie,” she almost beseeches. “What do you need?”

For a moment, she doesn’t think he would respond, doesn’t think he could respond. But then she feels him squeeze her hand before taking a deep breath.

“I can’t be here,” he whispered. 

She feels drops of liquid across her hands.

Tears.

“I can’t be here, Historia,” he repeats. “I can’t be in this palace. I can’t be around any of you.”

Her jaw clenches. Is this how it begins? Is Connie going to be the first to go?

“Tell me,” she commands, using her most imperial tone.

“I need to go,” he whispers, almost to himself. 

“Go where?” she demands. 

“Away,” he replies immediately. “Being here, around all of you,” he swallows, “makes me feel like I’m drowning.” He looks at her finally. “Being around you reminds me of what I’ve lost these past years.” His eyes burns. “Without a mission to save the world, without the threat of death ….all I can think about is what I’ve lost.”

She understands. But she doesn’t want to. Out of all of them, Connie, Jean, and Sasha had the most to lose when they signed up for the military. They had a family, a home. With Sasha gone, even Connie’s second family had abandoned him.

“Have you talked to our friends about this? To Jean?” she asks. Surely, Jean can help.

“It’s worse with Jean,” comes his anguished cry. “Jean, who has his mother. Jean, who still has his home. Jean, who still has Mikasa, lovesick fool that he is.”

She winces because, again, she understands, even when she doesn’t want to.

So she pretends at first. “Connie,” she says sternly, “it’s not Jean’s fault—“

“I know,” he exclaims, interrupting her. “I fucking know it’s not Jean’s fault.” He bows his head in shame. “He’s my friend, my best friend after Sasha, and I’m glad for him.” His voice cracks. “But seeing him...seeing him reminds me more of my loss.” A frustrated sigh escapes him. “And I know I’m an asshole for saying this, but I can’t help it.”

He stands up and shakes her hands off his. He runs them down his legs, as if wiping. “I don’t want to think it. But it’s there. Everytime.” He looks down at her. “If I stay here, I’ll end up hating him. Hating you. Hating everyone.” He laughs a mirthless laugh. “Hell, part of me thinks I’m there already.”

She takes a deep breath.

“Tell me what you need, Connie,” she asks again. Because she doesn’t know how to help him. They don’t teach you during training how to recover when you survive. They are too busy teaching you how to survive.

“I’m leaving, Historia,” he tells her with a determined look. “I don’t need anything, but I just thought you should know.”

“Where are you going?” she asks as calmly as she can. 

“I’ll probably go to Ragako first,” he says. “Then I dunno.”

“Connie,” she starts, “there’s nothing left there.” It’s his hometown, but the Titan they’ve identified as his mother has long since been...disposed of. And the town is abandoned and has generally been considered by neighboring towns as haunted. 

“I know,” he informs her. “I know exactly what’s there or not there. But, I have to start somewhere and...it’s the last place I know where my family was before….before everything.” He looks away. “The Titans...well, I can’t quite go to those gravesites now, could I?”

“No,” she says softly. She stares at her hands in front of her. “Have you told our friends?”

“I told Jean,” he says, “I told him I needed to get away for awhile.” He paces. “I’m not sure he understands. We kept each other sane after Sasha and I expect that he thinks we’ll do the same for each other now.” He sits down again. “He thinks I’m joining him in Trost after I go to Ragako.”

“And you didn’t tell him any different,” she finishes for him.

His silence is her answer. 

“He didn’t press for details,” he defends himself after another silence. 

“Connie, why are you telling me this,” she asks finally. “You and I….we’re not as close as you and ...take your pick.”

“Exactly,” he says. “You won’t try and stop me,” he reasons. “You won’t try and go with me.” He looks at her earnestly. “But you’ll make sure they know it’s my choice, without hurting them.”

She gives him a frustrated look. He is right.

“But also...one more thing,” he says hesitantly.

She waits for another pin to drop.

“I need you to promise me to do what you can to keep them together,” he begins. “I don’t mean in the same place. Or even with each other. But just together.” He groaned. “I’m not making any sense.”

He stares at her.

“I’m a pretty simple man, Historia,” trying once again. “I know I have to straighten myself out to stop the bitterness from eating away at me. I know that I’m lost. But the rest of them...they need a purpose. Soon. Or they’ll be lost too.”

She swallows a lump in her throat.

“See if you can give ‘em one, OK?”

“I know you love them, Connie,” she tells him gently. “Your leaving...it will leave a mark.”

“Not as bad a mark as if I stay,” he says frankly.

She nods. “When are you going?”

“Tomorrow, first light,” he answers.

She nods again. “Then we have time,” she says. “Why don’t you have dinner with me, and see if we can put our heads together about our friends?”

His first thought is to refuse, she can tell, but he changes his mind last minute and agrees.

“Let me get changed,” he finally says, seemingly embarrassed by his appearance. 

“You don’t have to,” she assures him. “Unless you really want to.” She spread her hands across the table. “We could eat here under the stars or inside.”

He smiles. She knows that after all the years in the military, he is never one to stand ceremony.

“If here’s fine,” he says, “I’d rather stay here.”

He looks up shyly.

“Thank you, Historia.”

“Just...come home,” she almost pleads. “Take whatever time you need, but please. Come home. We won’t care if it’s a week, a month, a year, or ten. Just come home when you can.”

He nods. She can tell he’s not sure of his answer, but he’s agreeing because maybe, it’s what he wants to do too.

\--------

Hitch yawns as she stretches her arms above her head and leans back against the stiff office chair she has been sitting on for the past couple of hours. She is finishing much later than expected that day, but sometimes, when the Queen demands, it is part of her job.

She stares at the four parchments in front of her, their inks still drying. She’ll have to make sure the courier gets to them as soon as possible tomorrow morning after she seals them. Otherwise, it will take a lot longer for the recipients to receive these once they’re scattered across Paradis. Her eyes are drawn quickly towards the neat writing before she stood up. 

From the Offices of HRH the Queen of Paradis

Huh.

She wonders if they’ll accept. 

She’s betting on yes, but nothing to do now but wait and see.


	2. Armin and Annie

From the Offices of HRH the Queen of Paradis

To Commander Armin Arlert of the Scouts Regiment:

It is with deepest respect and greatest honor that HRH Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis offers you the role of Director of Science and Technology, as part of her Cabinet. Should you accept this post, the position will be effective immediately. The current location for the station of the role is in Mitras, but as Director, you are allowed to move to any location deemed fit for your research.

Attached to this offer letter are further details of the position, including but not limited to: the job description and responsibilities.

HRH Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis await your hopefully favorable response.

Kindest Regards,

Hitch Dreyes  
Lady in Waiting to  
HRH the Queen of Paradis

_________________________

_He stared at her, and she at him, once the deed was done. I took both their concerted efforts, and all their friends’ help to get to this point. But in the end, all they saw was each other, and Eren in between._

__

_Annie, Jean, Connie, Captain Levi, Pieck, Gabi, Falco. The ones remaining with them._

__

_The ones still left alive. They couldn’t have done this without them._

__

_But in the end, all they saw was each other. And Eren._

__

_“We killed him,” she said, and in her eyes was all the pain and anguish he could bear seeing._

__

_“We killed him,” he agreed. And he wondered what she saw in his own eyes._

__

_________________________

__

__

They sit by a tree on a hill, much like the one he used to run around with Eren and Mikasa a very long time ago. He remembers running after them, all the time running after them, and savors the memory for what it is.

__

“Do you know what you’ll do?” she asks him quietly, her tone betraying none of what she feels.

__

“I do,” he replies. “I’ve always known.” He turns to her. “The question really is, if you’ll let me?”

__

She turns to face him then, and he can see that he surprised her. “Wha--what do you mean?” she asks him, and he can tell that she is afraid of the answer.

__

“Annie,” he says her name gently. “You’ve always known how I feel.” He turns to fully face her. “Will you let me, Annie? Let me come with you?”

__

She starts to cry and he’s left bereft because he’s never seen her cry. Mikasa had told him once that she thought she had seen the Female Titan cry, but never his Annie.

__

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his hand raised so that his fingers can wipe away her tears. “I thought you would be...happy?” he asks tentatively. “Rather, I hoped you would be happy.”

__

“I am,” she replies, “more than anything.” She licks her lips. “But Armin, I don’t know how long--”

__

“Even more important that I’m with you,” he tells her. “I don’t want to waste a moment.” He looks towards the inn they walked from. “My bags are packed.”

__

She laughs through her tears.

__

“The ship leaves tomorrow,” she protested. “How can you be ready?”

__

He smiles. “Annie,” he explains, “I’ve been ready since you booked your passage. I’ve known that I was always going to follow you. The question was whether you were going to let me, or whether I was going to have to do it in secret.”

__

“What about Mikasa?” she demands, the thought seemingly just crossing her mind.

__

And he is quiet for a while.

__

“She and I need time,” he states, his voice grave. “Being next to each other...it hurts both of us. That’s why she left as soon as she could. To spare us.”

__

“I don’t know when we’ll be back here,” she tells him. “In fact, I don’t know if I’ll even be back before--”

__

“It doesn’t matter,” he says matter of factly.

__

“You haven’t even said goodbye to any other of your friends!” she exclaims.

__

“Annie,” he chides her, “how often must I say it?” He nudges her shoulder with his. “I’ll write to them. And because we are friends, they will understand.”

__

“Even Mikasa?” she asks softly, because she knows that Mikasa is important. 

__

“Especially Mikasa,” he says confidently. 

__

And finally, she smiles that gentle smile and leans back against the tree.

__

“Tell me about this cloud watching you seem to enjoy so much,” she says gamely.

__

__

_________________________

__


	3. Levi and Mikasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For my Rivamika readers, a bittersweet drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE THE CHANGE IN RATING.

From the Offices of HRH the Queen of Paradis

To General Levi Ackerman of the Scouts Regiment:

It is with deepest respect and greatest honor that HRH Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis offers you the the role of Director of Housing and Urban Development, with the emphasis on running her own personal project, the Children of Paradis.

Attached to this offer letter are further details of the position, including but not limited to: the job description and responsibilities.

HRH Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis await your hopefully favorable response.

Kindest Regards

Hitch Dreyes  
Lady in Waiting to  
HRH the Queen of Paradis

\-----------------------------------

He enters the kitchen through the back door, carefully ensuring he doesn’t trek the mud and muck as he did so. He finds her standing over the stove, mixing something that smells heavenly and he feels his stomach grumble. He won’t admit it to her, but he always prefers when it’s her turn to cook.

“Overdid it again today, didn’t you?” she asks, making conversation. He knows that she knows the answer, but he also knows that she asks him almost as a dare. He can lie, and she would prove him wrong in a heartbeat, or he can admit the truth, and in doing so admit a weakness.

He isn’t sure which she prefers, but he is tired today, more so than usual, and he doesn’t want to fight. Not after this afternoon. He goes to the sink and washes his hands and face thoroughly, taking care to peel the eyepatch of his right eye. He doesn’t put it back as there’s not much point. Mikasa is not squeamish and even if she were, it’s his house. After wiping his hands, he sits on the chair and let’s out an exhausted sigh. “I don’t remember it being this hard,” he admits.

She slowly turns around to face him right after turning off the stove. She leans her hip against the counter and stares at him. He wonders sometimes what she sees. The war and the Rumbling has taken its toll on him, but he considers himself lucky. He is alive, after all. But right this minute, he feels older than even Kenny and the seemingly insurmountable work waiting outside makes him exhausted just thinking about it.

“Dinner’s ready,” she tells him. “Do you prefer to eat now, or after a bath?” 

His stomach answers for him with a low growl.

“Now it is then,” she says, pushing herself off the counter and grabbing some plates from the shelf.

It is a ritual for them this past week, ever since she arrived at his doorstep on the farmhouse. They share their meals together, breakfast and dinner in his house, lunch at the orphanage across the hill.

A plate of stew with potatoes appears in front of him, and freshly baked bread before it.

“Thank you, Mikasa,” he tells her, right before digging in. Mikasa is a good cook, something she likely refrained from sharing from the rest of her comrades during their days in the Scouts for fear of getting stuck with that chore daily. It is not her favorite pastime.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, but part of him can’t help but poke at it. “No wise cracks about my age today?” he taunts her. “Tired of picking on the old man already?” He misses it already. The easy camaraderie they had before this afternoon.

Before she—

He sees her take a deep breath, putting some effort in composing herself it seems. She grabs a napkin and wipes her mouth. “You don’t have to push me away,” she states calmly. “I got the message, loud and clear.”

“Mikasa,” he starts, unsure of what he really wants to say, but knowing that he wants to fix this. She looks away from him and he can see her retreat inside her head.

He stands and walks toward her. He puts a hand on her shoulder, willing her to look up at him. When she wouldn’t, he gives an exasperated sigh and crouches down in front of her.

“You ran away,” he declares, once their eyes meet. 

“You pushed me away,” she counters, accusing.

“I was caught off guard,” he defends himself.

She scoffs. 

“It’s not everyday when a beautiful woman,” he pauses when he hears her scoff some more, “a beautiful woman,” he insists, “it’s not everyday when a beautiful woman kisses me out of the blue. A little warning would have been nice, Ackerman.”

“I don’t do nice,” she throws at him. 

“Don’t I know it,” he mutters under his breath.

“Neither do you,” she grits under her teeth.

He acknowledges this.

“And it wasn’t out of the blue,”she retorts, her eyes blazing at him.

He halts whatever was on the tip of his tongue to say. She is right, of course. He knows, better than her, what it’s like to play with fire. And truth be told, it is a game they started not much later after her arrival.

He remembers clearly when the first look of awareness enters her eyes. They were both on the floor of his living room, putting together the contraption Historia had sent him. A gramophone she thought he’d be interested in and something the children may be interested in. Mikasa was being her usual snarky self, laughing at the intense concentration he paid towards making sure each piece was in the most correct and precise place. She had swatted his hand as he was supposedly about to put something in the wrong place. But, instead of snatching his hand away, he held hers in a vice grip and was about to say something scathing when their eyes met. And, wonder of wonders, he heard her breath catch at the realization of just how close they are. He saw the dawn of awareness that enters her eyes just as a blush rose upon her cheeks.

He lets go of her hand quickly, afraid she’d see something in his own face. Something he’s successfully tamped down for over a year now. She’d said her good nights soon after, and part of him wondered if it had been his imagination. He would have convinced himself of it, had it not for the next day and the day after that and subsequent days.

Days when her hand would linger just a bit longer over his when handing him an object. Days when he’d catch her staring at his lips with the same concentration he’s seen Braus have for meat. And days when she’d lean back against his shoulders on the sofa while they read some report. 

In those days, he would find himself under a cold shower at night while he berates his stray thoughts on a woman over a decade younger than his own age, even as his hand moves up and down his length.

And then there was him. He knows that he holds her just a little bit longer when he helps her up her horse during chores. He knows that there are days when their verbal teasing and snark manifests as a physical shove or a quick spar. Just like this afternoon.

He remembers finally pinning her down the ground after her casual challenge resulted in something a little more serious. Ackermans really shouldn’t spar with each other without a referee. She was younger, taller, less battered. But he was experienced and knew how to fight dirty. He was ready to declare victory, loosening his hold of her wrists, and lifting his weight off her when he feels her tense up. 

Her breathing was erratic, expected given their exertions, and he watched with fascination the rise and fall of her chest. When his eye finally did meet hers, he saw a determination in hers right before she used her hands to touch his face and bring it closer so that her lips could touch his.

For one second, it felt like an eternity, he froze, looking at her disbelievingly. But after days of teasing, days of not allowing himself more than just a few extra seconds of a lingering touch, his body knew what it wanted and he slanted his mouth over her in response even as his hands began to roam lower. He drank from her, his tongue sweeping across the seam of her lips to demand entrance. She opened her mouth and he lost himself in exploration, basking in her taste even as his lips decided to move lower. Her hands tugged at his hair when he left a trail of kisses down her neck. Her shirt had since lost its buttons so it was easy, so easy to dip his head and lick the gentle swell of her breast.

She moaned and the sound jarred him from his actions. He looked up at her and he could see her confusion at his abrupt action. He pushed himself up from the ground. “Mikasa,” he said, perhaps more harshly than he intended, his body screaming at him for stopping. He watched as she seemed to take in their position and the fact that he was now moving away from her. She scrambled to sit up.

Her hand touched her lips even as she pulled herself up to stand. “I’m sorry,” she exclaimed, “I shouldn’t have—“

Wait, what?

“Mikasa,” he said again, reaching out to her. 

But she was already pulling away, backing away. 

“I should go back to the house,” she stated, her voice trembling.

And his mind was still recovering that he did nothing but watch as she retreated.

He was an idiot.

Now, as he looks at her from his crouched position, he agrees. “You’re right, it wasn’t out of the blue.”

\-----------------------------------

She stares down at him, still cursing herself for acting out, for changing the dynamics. She isn’t sure what possesses her to kiss him, what possesses her to stay here the last few days. She came here to rest, to use the physical labor to get her mind off Armin. Instead, she finds Levi. And she stays.

“You’re right,” he admits. “It wasn’t out of the blue.”

She lets out her breath in almost a sigh of relief. Because a part of her wonders if it was all her imagination. If read more to the subtle touches, the heated looks. Because he takes it no further. Levi, a man of action, makes no further advances. Rather, he waits. He watches and waits.

And it drives her up the walls.

She wants him to take charge. To tell her what to do. That’s how it has always been in the Scouts.

Except they are not in the Scouts, or even in the military, she realizes.

And as she looks at him that moment, she thinks she understands. He won’t tell her what to do. He won’t order her to do anything. Not outside the Scouts, and certainly not about this. There is too much history of him being her superior officer, and her following orders.

If she wants this, she thinks she will have to be the one to lead.

And she thinks...no, she is sure that this is what she wants.

So she cups his face with her hands and asks, “Would this be enough?”

A look of confusion enters his eye. “Enough what?” his voice is raspy.

“Enough of a warning,” she says, as she pulls his head up and closer, before touching his lips with hers.

His lips were as she remembers, hard yet gentle, demanding and coaxing at the same time. This time it is her tongue that sweeps across his mouth and darts inside to taste him like she has been wanting to all week.

His hands crawl up her legs, his thumbs digging into her thighs even as she tries to draw them close to alleviate the pressure she starts to feel between them. He holds them still for a moment, before breaking their kiss and standing up.

She looks up at him, and he is offering her one of his hands. She places her own and he pulls her up. 

“We’re not doing this the first time in the kitchen,” he says adamantly, pulling her across the room. She follows him up the stairs, her heart hammering madly against her ribs.

“The first time,” she jokes lightly. “You expect a second time?” she teases.

He opens the door to his bedroom and turns back to look at her, his eye serious. “Is there a first time?” he asks her again, giving her a chance to change her mind, she knows.

“Yes,” she says confidently, because she knows that any hint of doubt will derail this, and that’s not what she wants.

He pulls her to his room, and pulls her down for a kiss. “Then I’m going to have to hope that there’s a second time,” he tells her. “And a third,” he whispers against the juncture of her neck. And when he pushes her down on his bed and follows her there, he adds, “and fourth, and any number you want.”

\-----------------------------------

From the Offices of HRH the Queen of Paradis

To Captain Mikasa Ackerman of the Scouts Regiment:

It is with deepest respect and greatest honor that HRH Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis offers you the post to Hizuru as Ambassador of Paradis. Should you accept this post, the position will be effective immediately. 

Attached to this offer letter are further details of the position, including but not limited to: the job description and responsibilities.

HRH Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis await your hopefully favorable response.

Kindest Regards

Hitch Dreyes  
Lady in Waiting to  
HRH the Queen of Paradis

\-----------------------------------

The first rays of the sun touch her lids and she stretches, feeling the familiar ache in her muscles. She feels the arm around her stomach tighten in response. She tilts her head back, and feels the ghost of his kisses trailing from her neck to her shoulders. 

It is almost a ritual for them to wake up at the same time ever since she started sleeping in his bed. As if their bodies were attuned to each other’s rhythm. She feels a hand glide across her stomach and lower. She is wet already. She bites back a groan when fingers slide inside her.

“Don’t hold back,” he hisses against her ear. “I want to hear you.” His fingers are moving slowly, curling against that one spot and she moans. Before she knows it, he presses her down and moves atop her, his fingers replaced by something bigger, something harder, moving in and out until she feels herself scream his name and shudder as her orgasm wracks her body. She feels him thrust once or twice more before following her to the edge.

“Good Morning,” he teases her, his breathing slowly going back down to normal as he lies down beside her.

She smiles and turns to him, propping herself up with her elbow. “Good morning,” she returns, kissing his exposed chest for good measure.

“What’s on your mind so early this morning,” he asks her nonchalantly, his hand running through her hair as he looks up at her.

And she knows that tone.

Levi knows her well after all.

She touches his chest, watching her fingers splay across it. She wants to lie and brush him off. But she doesn’t, because she doesn’t make a habit of lying to people she cares about. Instead she is silent as she contemplates what to say to him.

But this is Levi, and he knows her well.

“You’re leaving,” he states flatly, his look is intense as he stares at her.

Without taking her eyes off him, she sits up and tugs the blanket across her chest. “I always was,” she replies lightly. “I just wasn’t sure when.”

He takes a deep breath and sits himself up on his side of the bed, facing away from her. “Right,” he mutters, his voice devoid of any emotion. “Is there a particular day that you’re thinking of?” he asks.

“Tomorrow,” she tells him promptly, staring at his back. She sees the slight tenseness that settles on his shoulders and tells herself it has nothing to do with her. “If I leave by morning, I’ll be at the harbor by the afternoon, in time to catch the ship to Hizuru.”

“It seems like you have it all planned,” he observes, his voice still stoic.

“Only since yesterday,” she admits. Yesterday when she received Hitch’s notice from the OHRHQP to let her know they had received her acceptance letter.

“I see,” he says softly. He stands up. “Well, day’s not getting any younger. I need to put you to work before I lose an extra pair of hands around here.” He walks to his dresser to pull out some pants and put them on.

She takes a moment to admire his muscular physique even as his movements seem wooden, and with less grace than usual.

“Levi,” she calls out softly, partially because she can’t bear to watch him avoid her, but also because she knew he needed to hear some things from her.

He turns back to look at her.

“I have to leave soon,” she tries to explain to him, “or I’m afraid...I’m afraid that I never will.” She wonders if he understands because it has taken a lot of her own soul searching to come to this conclusion.

He pulls on a white shirt and walks towards her. “Would that be so bad?” he asks her gently, and for a moment, she sees a flash of vulnerability sweep across his face before it disappears. His hand brushes her cheek with his thumb and she leans towards it.

“No,” she says honestly, “it won’t.” Because she knows...she knows that she can be happy here. Content even. She moves a little on the bed and taps the space next to her, inviting him to sit. 

He hesitates at first before finally complying. 

She tries to make him understand. “When I see you here,” her hand gesture around them, “with the children or cussing a blue streak while you repair another godforsaken roof leak,” she smiles, “I can tell that you belong.” She reaches across his forehead and brushes his hair from his left eye, her thumb lingering over the scars of the other. She reaches up and brushes a kiss on his forehead.

“I don’t know where I belong,” she says almost apologetically, sitting back down. “This farm, that orphanage and all the kids and the people working together,” she licks her lips, “you fit with them. Like a puzzle piece. And they fit with you.” She pauses and thinks carefully about her next words. “It’s really quite beautiful and….I want the same.” 

He is silent for a few seconds, but it feels like forever to her so she breaks it. “Is that selfish of me?”

“Gods, no!” is his quick response. He reaches for her and gives her a quick, hard kiss. “You’re not the one who’s selfish,” he growls. He curses under his breath and she can see an internal struggle take place, before he looks up at her with a resolution.

He takes a deep breath and touches his forehead towards hers. “Is this what you want?” he asks, his voice was quiet. 

She caresses his cheek. “Yes,” she replies. “There’s too many reasons why the answer is yes. I’d like to know more about my mother’s heritage,” she starts to list, “and this position will let me do that and help Historia at the same time.”

“Mikasa,” he chides her, “you don’t have to justify this to me.” He kisses her eyes. “I understand.” He kisses her forehead. “I’m the one who’s selfish.” His hands grip her shoulders. “I’m the one who wants you to stay….here with me.”

“Well of course you do!” she exclaims, hoping to alleviate a bit of the tension. “Who else would put up with all your shitty orders around here and still make you a hot meal?”

“Brat,” he says affectionately. It has become a term of endearment at this point.

She pulls him back in bed to lie next to her. “Chibi,” she says softly, another non-traditional term of endearment.

She feels him settle next to her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders.

“You’ll be alone there,” he warns her, “in a foreign land. It’s not the same as when we went to Marley.”

“Lady Kiyomi cares for me in her own way,” she quips, but she is serious.

His tone turns serious. “Mikasa, you have to know that this post is unlike the one offered Kirstein,” another warning. “There’s a hell of a lot more unknown that you’ll have to deal with. It’s a damn sight more than what that piece of paper says.” 

“They might think to use me as a pawn,” she says frankly. “Who knows? I might surprise them instead.”

She feels his nod of acceptance. He stands up and takes off the shirt he just put on.

She grins at him. “What about the morning chores?” she teases.

“Fuck the chores,” he says crudely as he crawls on top of her and settles himself between her legs. “I’ve changed my mind on what you need to do on your last day here.”

She laughs. “Not putting me to work anymore, huh? Why Levi, how unlike you!”

“Oh, you’ll work,” he tells her, yanking the sheets down from her breasts and exposing her nipples to the cold air. “We’ll both work,” he promises, just as his mouth latches on to a nipple and starts to suckle. She closes her eyes and savors the feelings that start to surge again. And she allows herself to forget, for a few hours, that this will be her last day and night with him.

\-----------------------------------

They leave early the next morning. 

He insists on taking her, and he helps her load up the buggy with her luggages. They sat in silence, and she takes advantage of their last moments together by leaning her head against his shoulder during the ride.

“Will you write to me?” she asks curiously as last minute thoughts run through her mind.

“Do you want me to?” he returns with a wry grin on his face and a side long glance.

She thinks about it. “I don’t know,” she says honestly. “It might make things….harder?” She is silent for awhile. “What we have...is ended now,” she makes a statement, but she wishes it were a question. Because...because she wishes it were otherwise.

This time, he is the one who’s silent. “The moment you leave, yes,” he agrees. “I think it wouldn’t be fair to either of us otherwise.”

There’s a heaviness in her chest, as if a large animal was pressing down on it. She grits her teeth. 

She has decided. There is no going back.

Is there?

She looks up and sees the harbor in the horizon. Where did the time go? She clenches her fist across her lap. 

She has decided. There is no going back. She can do this.

She feels a hand on top of hers, holding her fists.

“You can do this,” he says, not looking at her. “You’re strong. One of the strongest I know.”

Levi knows her well.

He stops the buggy. “Looks like someone is here to see you off,” he observes.

She looks up, her eyes searching the crowd. She sees Historia and Hitch with baby Meera. But she searches again.

“I didn’t see him,” Levi murmurs. “I looked.”

Levi knows her well.

She tries to hide her disappointment.

“Mikasa,” he looks at her. He reaches for his pocket and grabs an envelope and hands it to her. “Read this? When you’re on the boat or in Hizuru. Doesn’t matter which.”

She takes the letter from his hand and his grin awhile back now makes sense.

“I know what I said earlier,” he says urgently, “but Mikasa, I will follow your lead. Whatever you need, you know you can always come to me.”

And she doesn’t know what to say. She looks into his eye and is at a loss for words. She takes a deep breath and all she can do is nod in acknowledgment because, at that point, they notice Historia and Hitch approach. 

“Ready?” he asks. And his question is full of meanings. She thinks he means all of them, but she’s not sure.

“Ready,” she replies, because it doesn’t matter which he is asking about, she is ready….for anything. And so, she places her hand on his as he leads her to the unknown.


	4. Jean and Hitch

From the Offices of HRH the Queen of Paradis

To Colonel Jean Kirstein of the Scouts Regiment:

It is with deepest respect and greatest honor that HRH Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis offers you the post to Marley as Ambassador of Paradis. Should you accept this post, the position will be effective immediately. 

Attached to this offer letter are further details of the position, including but not limited to: the job description and responsibilities.

HRH Queen Historia Reiss of Paradis await your hopefully favorable response.

Kindest Regards

Hitch Dreyes  
Lady in Waiting to  
HRH the Queen of Paradis

——————————

He watches from a distance because that is what he’s always done and he can’t seem to break the habit now. He watches her accept Levi’s help and jump down from the buggy, but not before her eyes searched the crowds.

She doesn’t see him. And truth be told, it is unlikely that she is looking for him.

But then, she never did really see him. Not in their days as trainees, not even in their days in Captain Levi’s squad. Not in the way that he wanted her to see him. So, today is no surprise.

He watches as she greets Historia and Hitch, coos at Historia’s baby. Levi steps away from her, but not before he sees him give her elbow a reassuring squeeze and the silent communication that passes between them. He curses the surge of jealousy that rises up even at the friendly gesture.

In the periphery, he can see Historia’s servants unload the buggy of her luggages and direct them towards a ship. But his attention is on her. Always her. Mikasa Ackerman has had his attention since he first saw her walk past him in the mess hall almost a decade ago, and nothing has changed. 

He puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the building. He won’t come over, won’t say goodbye.

He can’t bear to.

He isn’t sure he can do it without breaking down and begging her to stay, without telling her that the thought of not seeing her for anything longer than a week was tearing at his heart. He is a fool. But, in this case with Mikasa, he is also a coward.

And he hates himself for it, even as he wonders if he’ll eventually hate her for it. He chides himself and ponders whether that day might even come. And whether it would be preferable to this gut-wrenching, unrequited love he’s always felt.

And so he watches when she says her goodbyes. Watches when she turns her back and walks to the ship, a slew of Azumabito servants in her wake. He stays there and watches even as the ship sails away, and only the cover of darkness remains. It isn’t until the cold permeated his bones that he draws himself up once more and heads to the inn he was staying at.

There’s a pub there, and he can certainly use a fucking drink.

The walk is not far, he chose its location for that exact reason and its distance from the pier. He is a masochist, after all, and knows that standing in the shadows today was the plan all along. 

When he enters the pub, it is mildly crowded and he’s surprised. He expected to nurse a beer and perhaps grab a dinner in peace, but the steady hum of people talking around him is a welcome relief from his own thoughts. He grabs a table after putting in his order with a server, and grabs that beer he wanted.

“You’re a sorry piece of shit, you know that?” a voice reaches him.

He looks up and it is Hitch Dreyse striding towards him casually. He notices the stares she garners as she approaches. If her loud voice isn’t enough to make her noticeable, then her dress and mannerisms would have done it as they far outclass the establishment they are in.

She sits on a chair across him, uninvited. 

“You got something you wanna get off your chest, Dreyse?” he demands. His patience is a frayed wire, and he wants to be alone in his self-pity.

She rolls her eyes and signals the server to bring her a drink. “Oh,” she says with a derisive sneer, “don’t give me any shit, Kirstein. I wouldn’t be here if you moved your sorry ass today and actually did something before Ackerman left.” She stares suspiciously at the drink brought in front of her. “In fact, your pathetic self probably wouldn’t be sitting here like a loser if you’d just gone up and told her that you’ve been wanting to jump her bones since before I’ve known you,” she states scornfully.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be,” he asks, “besides here bothering the shit out of me?”

“As a matter of fact, no,” she says dryly. “At the behest of Her Royal Highness the Queen of Paradis, my lovely self was asked to check on you and ensure that you’re fine and dandy. She saw you back there you know. Hiding in the shadows.” She gestures around them. “This watering hole isn’t exactly suited for royalty and I’m pretty sure her uptight advisors would have something to say should she even venture to enter this fine establishment for the sole purpose of possibly kicking your ass, no matter how fine of an ass it is.”

He spits in his drink and struggles not to choke. He glares at her. “Have a little class, why don’t you?” he blusters. “What kind of Lady In Waiting are you?”

She slaps him, her eyes furious. “Fuck you! I’m the kind of Lady In Waiting that can take down a whole slew of men, should they do anything stupid like attack our Queen.” She slams her hands down on the table. “I’m the kind of Lady In Waiting that knows when to blend in if the Queen needs a spy. I’m the kind of Lady In Waiting that obeys her Queen even when the said Queen asks her to go check on a chump too scared to talk to his schoolboy crush for fear of utter rejection. And lastly, I’m the kind of Lady In Waiting who won’t take any shit from pathetic losers who think they can talk down on me because I’m a woman and I happen to have a mind of my own.”

She grabs her drink and downs it one gulp, before slamming the mug down furiously and signaling for another.

“Ah, fuck!” he swears. “Shit.” He looks at her, shame-faced. “I’m sorry.” He grabs her hands, “I’m sorry, Hitch, I mean it.” He runs one of his hands across his hair and looks away. “Goddamit,” he shakes his head. “You’re right,” he said. “Everything you said, you’re right. I’m a piece of shit, I’m pathetic, I’m a loser. I’m a fucking coward,” he adds on.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he exclaims. He looks back at her. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats. “I shouldn’t have taken out my frustrations on you. And I certainly shouldn’t have said what I did and insulted you.”

She gives him a somewhat mollified look and settles on her seat. She takes a deep calming breath and leans back on her chair. “I swear you’re so fucking stupid sometimes, Kirstein,” she drawls. 

It’s his turn to take a calming breath.

“Let’s talk about something else,” he suggests.

He sees her internal struggle before nodding her head reluctantly. 

“Ok,” she says lightly. “Mind telling me why you haven’t responded to the Queen’s ridiculously generous job offer?”

He looks away.

“You want me to take a guess,” she offers, and her smile is cruel.

“Can I stop you,” he asks, knowing he’s not going to like what she has to say.

She smiles a knowing smile. “No,” she states frankly. “Here’s what I think and it’s what I told Historia. You were waiting to hear what Ackerman was going to do. If she refused and stayed here in Paradis, you would have refused your position too because you’re just that much of a hopeful sap. But then...she accepted. You must have heard that to through the grapevine.” She looks closely at him. “But word of that only came in a couple of days ago, and now you’re here.”

She gives him a pitying look. “What was the endgame here, Jean? What was the plan? Were you going to ride up to her and stop her? Talk some sense into her? Make a declaration?” She gives him a look. “Come on, gimme something here. You owe me after that shitty thing you said.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “There was no plan,” he grits out. 

“No,” she gives him a disbelieving look. She laughs. “You don’t mean to tell me that you rode all the way here with no plan. What the hell kind of fucking colonel are you that you ride into battle with no plan?”

“Not helping, Hitch,” he groused.

She rolled her eyes again. “Alright,” she acquiesces. “So what are you going to do now?” she asks him. “Should I let the Queen unofficially know that you’ll be accepting her offer since your lady love isn’t here anymore?”

He bites back a scathing retort. It is a valid question. He does need to let Historia know sooner rather than later. But it irks him that Hitch’s assessment is correct. 

He sees her give him another knowing look and wave of irritation engulfs him. 

“Ok,” she declares. “Ambassador to Marley position filled,” she crows.

“You don’t have to be so smug about it,” he says, exasperated. It is embarrassing how easy she reads him. He wonders if she is just that good, or he is just that terrible at hiding his feelings.

“Both,” she says, as if hearing his thoughts, and giving him a cheeky grin. “Now, I promised Historia I’d make sure you’re ok before leaving you to your own depressed state. So, what is there to do around here so that I’m not bored before I report back to her?”

He laughs and it feels good. He can’t remember laughing this past week and part of him is grateful for the feeling. He nods his head towards the half filled mug in front of her. “That’s pretty much it here,” he tells her.

“Well shit,” she pouts, before suddenly lighting up. “Another round then!”

——————————

Jean wakes with a splitting headache. He keeps his eyes closed, because he can feel the brightness of the sun through his lids and it lets him know that it is late and he has slept in. The thick feeling of his tongue and the dryness of his mouth tells him he may have over indulged the night before.

He hears himself groan as memories of yesterday begin to flood his mind.

Mikasa.

The ship.

He hears another groan.

Except this time, the sound doesn’t come from him.

And he becomes still as he flings his eyes wide open. He has to blink because the sun is still too bright for his eyes. But he perseveres and tries to sit up, only to find himself...trapped. 

Because there is an arm and a leg that is flung across his torso and his leg. An arm and a leg that is attached to a very feminine form right next to him in the bed.

Hitch.

And memories of the previous night come to him slowly, in increments.

He and Hitch had a few drinks, but not enough to not know what they were doing. At least not on his part and he certainly hoped not in hers. He recalled the moment their eyes met and an unspoken decision was made. He had gotten up and held his hand to her. She looked at him and part of him wondered if it was him she was seeing. She placed her hand in his and they’d walk towards his room in the inn.

He remembered kissing her, because it usually started with a kiss, didn’t it? And he wanted that feeling of intimacy, the feeling of connecting with another human being. He’d lived in his head and his dreams for so long that he savored the actual touch of another person. A person who wanted to get close to him. And she made him laugh. Even if it’s at himself.

“Are you sure?” he had asked. “I’m sorry….you’re not….this doesn’t mean…we don’t have to...”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” she shouted at him as she pushed him down the bed.

There was a desperation on how they came together, something just beneath the surface simmering to be let out. A frustration that won’t be alleviated.

And now, he feels her move beside him and turns to face her. He watches as her eyes open slowly and focus on him. He knows when she becomes aware of their surroundings.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “This means nothing, Kirstein,” she tells him harshly, as she pulls herself from him and to her side of the bed and looks away. “Understand?”

He wants to disagree, because what they did, it should mean something right? “Hitch,” he says her name, hoping she would look at him. “We should talk.”

She laughs, and the sound is joyless. “Lonely people suck,” she mutters. “Nothing to talk about Kirstein. We drank and made questionable decisions.”

“Hitch,” he tries again, “I don’t make a habit of meaningless ...relationships.”

“Oh my fucking nonexistent Walls, would you stop?” she demands harshly. “Jean, what do you think happened here?” her tone is irate and she addresses him like a child.

“Hitch,” he tries to reach her, “Can we have a reasonable discussion about this?”

And it is perhaps the worst thing he can say because he sees her clam up before pushing herself off the bed to begin searching for her clothes.

“I don’t really know what you want to discuss,” she says while she pulls on her dress, “but if it’s anything other than ‘let’s forget this ever happened,’ then the answer is no.”

“Hitch,” he attempts again. “Let’s just talk. Please.”

“Jean,” she says, clearly vexed. “Let me tell you how this conversation is gonna go, so I can spare us the few minutes. First we’ll decide that it’s a mistake and a result of poor judgment. Why you might ask? Well clearly we’re not who the other person really wanted in their bed.” She walks across the room and finds her shoes. “Second, because alcohol was clearly involved in this poor decision-making, we’ll assure each other that it was, at least, a consenting mistake on both our parts. No harm, no foul. Third, we’ll tell each other that this won’t have any bearing on our future encounters and that it’s best to forget about it because it’s what’s going to make both of us more comfortable with each other in the future.” 

She stops for breath and to put her shoes on.

“Did I cover all your talking points?” she asks, a slight edge in her tone. 

“No,” he protests. “Hitch, when I went up to this room last night, you were the person I wanted to be with.”

“Oh Sina help me,” she says derisively, “Do you really believe that?”

“Yes,” he insists, “I don’t just go around sleeping with random people.” He gets up from the bed too, trying to muster some dignity despite dragging the sheets around his waist. Where the fuck were his clothes anyway? “I thought we had a good conversation and one thing led to another.”

“Ok, ok,” she seems more agitated. “Fuck, how drunk were you? I’m gonna be real pissed off at myself if it turns out I took advantage of you in your vulnerable state.”

He glares at her. “Not enough that I didn’t know who the fuck I was sleeping with.”

“Ok, ok,” she concedes, but adds, “you’re saying I’m the person you wanted to sleep with last night?”

“Yes!” he answers, trying to get through to her. It might be a mistake, and it may just be two people comforting one another, but he knows who he went to bed with. 

“Right,” but her tone belied her words. “Then, do you just not remember last night?”

“You’re not making any fucking sense!”

She gives him a hard stare. “Well, it’s funny, because it wasn’t my name you were calling out last night,” she states matter of factly, “and my hair is clearly not black.”

And another memory from last night hits him like a ton of bricks. It was a recurring dream he’s had since he was a trainee.

_Mikasa, Mikasa….you’re so beautiful….I love your black hair...it’s beautiful...._

Shit. Does he fucking talk in his sleep now?

“Hitch, I’m sor—“

“Stop!” she shouts, holding her hand. “Jean,” she said, softer this time. “I’ll give you that we knew what we were doing last night. And, you know, it wasn’t bad,” she said baldly.

He groans. “Oh God. Don’t spare me, why don’t you.”

She laughs. “Fine, fine,” she smiles. “It was fun.”

She walks toward him, and he braces himself. He never knows with her.

“It was fun,” she repeats. “You’re actually smarter than you look. And you made me laugh and forget a few things for awhile.” She pauses. “I’m guessing I did the same for you.”

“Yes!” he exclaims. “Hitch,” he begins, holding her shoulders, and looking up at her, “sit next to me for a bit, will you? You’re giving me a complex standing over me this way,” he jokes.

She gives him an impatient look. “Good to know,” she says wryly, but sits next to him otherwise.

He holds her left hand with his right. “Last night, I thought you were beautiful, and smart, and fun. I count myself fucking lucky you went back with me in this room.”

“Goddamn right,” she chirps.

He looks at her, this time he’s the one exasperated. “As I was saying,” he continues, “I don’t have regrets,” he says candidly. “With the exception of hurting you with whatever it is I may have said in my sleep. That was pretty shitty. And for that one, I am sorry.”

“Don’t,” she shakes her head. “It’s fine. I wasn’t who you wanted, you weren’t who I wanted. Ugh! We both knew coming into this.” 

“Hitch,” he tries to be patient. “You were who I wanted last night,” he says candidly. “For a brief time, I was lighthearted and fun to be around, and being with you made that possible. So, you may not be the one person I’ve been hung up on for what seems like forever, but you were the right person for me last night.” He pauses. “And for a time,” he hesitates, “I hope I helped take your mind off your troubles too.”

She lets out a deep breath.

“I don’t really know what you do,” he says frankly. “But it sounds like it’s something over my head and something important. Not only that, it sounds like you’re ...real proud of it. I think...I think that if he were to see you now….he’d be proud too.”

She becomes still, and the restless energy that seemed to possess her has settled down.

“Don’t talk about him again,” she says quietly. She moves to the door and opens it. “I’m going to report to Historia that you got drunk but are not suicidal. Make sure you get that letter of acceptance to the office. There’s a ship leaving for Marley in two weeks.”

She leaves and closes the door softly behind her.

“Fuck,” he curses viciously.

He wishes she’d just slammed the door.

He bends down, rubbing his hands over his head.

Two weeks to prep for Marley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another part complete!
> 
> Hope to see you in _Letters from the Second Year_


End file.
